


Carry On My Wayward Son

by awkwardlyqueer (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Carry On My Wayward Son, Castiel POV, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Sad, angsty af, kinda cringey?? lol, kinda spoilers??, mix between song and story, really angsty and sad, sam is a wreck, this takes place between season 9 and 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:58:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7219705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/awkwardlyqueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is gone and he has left behind him two broken people</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry On My Wayward Son

**Author's Note:**

> hello!  
> One of my fist destiel fics so I hope it's not too cringey..  
> This is really angsty sorry  
> If you see any mistakes please point them out (in a nice way please) because english isn't my mother tongue.  
> Hope you enjoy!

_“Carry on my wayward son”_

Now the tears were streaming down his cheeks but he made no effort wiping them. That goddamn song. It was their song. It was playing when they met. It was softly playing on the background when they first kissed. And it was playing when…

_“They’ll be peace when you are done.”_

It was supposed to be over. They had won their battle with evil. Not once, not twice but four times already. But destiny had other plans. To win their last battle with evil, he had to let him change. And now he couldn’t change him back. 

_“Lay your weary head to rest.”_

It wasn’t fair. He was supposed to protect him. Watch over him. But he failed. Again and again. And now there was nothing left of the man he knew. Of the man he fell in love. 

_“Don’t you cry no more.”_

It was useless now. He choked back a sob, but another one escaped his lips. He quickly wiped his tears and composed himself. He couldn’t break down. Not with all those people around him. He started shuffling back to his car. He had to get back to the bunker. He fumbled with his keys and when he finally put them in the ignition, he rested his head on the wheel. He needed to get his act together if he wanted to get him back. 

_“Once I rose above the noise and confusion,”_

He took some deep breaths and when he looked back up, his otherwise sparkling blue eyes had hardened and now the only visible emotion was cold determination. He didn’t need those human feelings anymore because their purpose was gone. Now the only purpose was to get him back. 

_“Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion.”_

He started the car and with a violent jerk of the wheel, he got on the road. He ignored the stop signs, the red lights and the other cars. He almost ran over some kids who were crossing the road. But he didn’t care. 

_“I was soaring ever higher but I flew too high.”_

There will be an answer at the bunker. He was sure of it. Well, not sure but he had to believe something. He needed to believe. Because it was better than thinking that he could nothing to get him back. It was hopeless but it was the last desperate try of a man who struggled to stay sane.

_“Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man.”_

He parked the car, and without caring to lock it, he slammed the door and headed to the entrance of the bunker. He went in and as soon as he went down the stairs, he was greeted by a passed-out Sam next to a pile of empty bottles. He eyes softened as soon as he saw him. He was curled up with Dean’s leather jacket and was whimpering in his sleep. It was heart wrecking how such a big guy seemed so small. He had been crushed by all those things that had happen. It was too much for him. He sighed and he started cleaning up the drunken mess Sam had made. It wasn’t really hard. When he finished, he took a blanket and put it on Sam, who let a small whimper and fidgeted a little before falling into unconsciousness again. He would have pitied him if the same thing wasn’t happening to him too. He had lost a brother, while he had lost a lover. It was too much for both of them. 

_“Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man.”_

He started looking for some left-over alcohol. Even though it didn’t really affect him, he liked the burning sensation it left on his throat. He found a little forgotten bottle of whiskey and he took a long sip of the amber liquor. He started venturing on the hallways till he was in front of the room he didn’t know he was looking for. He opened the door slowly and stood there for a full minute before going in. 

_“I hear the voices when I’m dreaming.”_

It was painful going in this room again after so long. It was filled with memories, good and bad. This was where they first kissed. This is where he laid while the last scraps of his old self were locked away. This was where they had watched the “classics” as Dean called them and he had laughed about some stupid joke he had told him. This was where they had found an empty bed and a short note saying to let him go. This was where they had a passionate night and had confessed for the first time that they were in love with each other. 

_“I can hear them say.”_

He laid down on the bed and closed his eyes. It was too much. This gaping emptiness he has feeling since Dean left was too much. He wasn’t supposed to feel those things. He was an angel for God’s sake. And he went and fell in love. How did humans managed to keep it together with those feelings? It would have hurt less if he had fallen of a bridge. He put the bottle on his lips to take another sip and closed his eyes. He missed Dean. 

_“Carry on my wayward son.”_


End file.
